Shadow Era Prologue Rewrite
by NachyoChez
Summary: My take on the original prologue. The story is exactly the same, but I've taken some liberties with the wording and the characters.


Much like the creation of many things in the lands of Teroth, the origins of the Shadow Crystals are shrouded in mystery. If one asked three different priests of three different gods they would get but one answer, "My god created them." Their creation, however, is not what history will most remember. The war fought for control of them, the people who stepped forward to combat for or against an age of darkness, these are the things that the world will remember. All of these things, however, came from a man who never wanted to be remembered for anything other than his family.

He had never wanted much from life. His simple cottage on the outskirts of Uhr, the smallest village in his province, was more than enough for Nishaven's wife, two children, and his father Arakat. Love for the simpler things had been instilled in the young farmer by his elder, a level headed man who had spent his entire youth and most of his adult life working to remove himself from any debts his family owed to the Lord of the Manor of Kelleth. The decision had been wise as the Lord Manor was now the canton, and the new title still held no sway over the small tracts of land Arakat and his father had secured for their future generations.

His father had taught Nishaven the ways of a simple life. The skills of farming, weather watching, and enough reading to examine the books for anyone trying to swindle them. That hadn't been enough for the boy's insatiable intellect though, and Arakat often found his son searching out the more beautiful things in life. Nishaven learned to cultivate flowers and herbs, the calls and colors of all the birds in his area, as well as how to read books with titles Arakat couldn't even pronounce.

His muscular physique, keen mind, and rabid curiosity brought the boy his fair share of mischief through the years. After Marcus, the local blacksmith, cheated him on the sale of a new tiller and a traveling band of charlatans managed to lift some of his precious silver with a card scam, Nishaven had become far more discerning the company he kept. Women became his only vice for several years, until Elana came around and knocked some sense into him. He'd often joke that her brutal beatings were the reason he'd married her; a joke that was always followed with much laughter by any who heard it.

Elana was quite possibly the most gentle and woman Vesmana had ever graced the world with unless, of course, she found need to educate Nishaven on his misconduct. Her smile was gentle at all times, but to him it could light up entire cities. Though it was tradition in his province to court a woman for a year and a day before becoming engaged with another year and a day before marriage, Nishaven asked for Elana's hand after only a month. They were married within the season and had their first born, their son Murah, before a full year was out. Anyone who questioned the speed of their romance simply needed to meet them to understand.

She brought out the best in him, and he in her. The couple easily garnered the attention of the Village, and Elana quickly found herself the de facto marriage counselor for several villages. Nishaven, on the other hand, was renowned as a jack of all trades. Though he still helped his father every day on the farm, he would take almost any job to help a neighbor for the most meager of fees. No one said it, but they all knew he only charged enough to buy some small trinket or gift for his wife and son as an apology for not being home sooner.

After five years of utterly blissful marriage, the happy couple found their family growing. When Mirka (named for Elana's mother) was born, the town held a meeting. The only people unaware of the meeting belonged to Nishaven's family, for their daughter was the subject of the gathering. Put more precisely, a parade in her honor was the discussion at hand. It looked as though the idea was going to pass too, until the local barkeep meekly raised his hand and asked if anyone else thought Nishaven might get angry over them drawing so much attention to his family. For all his virtues, Nishaven's temper had become something of a legend.

One night, after a hard day's work on several homes that had been damaged in a recent storm, Nishaven overheard the barkeep telling how he'd bedded Elana earlier that day, and her husband was a fool for leaving her alone so often. Knowing this was an outright lie, Nishaven had proceeded to charge at the man full tilt. Being meek in stature and personality, the offender had quickly locked himself in a room inaccessible to anyone not possessing the key or a good number of tools for bypassing the lock. Not to be stopped, the farmer proceeded to do to the bar what he had intended on the flesh of its owner. When at last he'd calmed enough to be approached by the man to whom the barkeeper had been speaking, it was explained that 'Alana' was the name of the woman in question.

Nishaven had rebuilt the bar, furniture and all, within the week. He even used sturdier woods and fixtures than the original had held to ensure no one else would be ripping it down by hand again. Words could not express the regret for his actions, but he did stop by and purchase a large quantity of alcohol every week. Everyone knew Nishaven never drank, but the money was welcomed anyway and the alcohol only added to his and Elana's 'host of the town' status.  
The motion for a parade was denied almost immediately.  
Only a month later, the city was again meeting. This time no joy came as they discussed the rising death tolls from nearby villages and cities. Some new plague had struck the land and was devastating the populace without discrimination. It infected quickly, and killed within days with no known cure found. Many people blamed Lord Keldor and his worship of the evil god Seroth for the suddenness of this disease, and Nishaven found no reason to question that logic.  
No one in their village seemed to have contracted it as of yet, but they agreed to be more weary of outsiders just in case. Nishaven even went so far as to ask Elana to stop seeing her clientele until the scare had passed. In the end her kindness won out, and the wonderful woman brought in a very troubled couple for an evening visit. By the time he had come home from his daily labors, the husband had already fallen into a deep fever and the wife had lost most of her color. Arakat had called for the medic to carry them away but as Nishaven lay in bed that night the sounds of Murah coughing in the next room kept sleep from him.  
Fear was not something he had known in his life; his size and mind had formed a fearsome combination to prevent him from ever finding a situation he couldn't find a way out of. But this was beyond him or anything he had control of. Sleep was something he knew he'd not be getting anytime soon. Which was why when the apparition of a priestess stood at the foot of his bed, bathed in holy light, he did not mistake it for some common dream. He had seen the woman before; her image was scrawled into the books he had read from time to time when the clergy came through his area. But her life had ended and joined the gods long ago.  
"Uma..." he said, to no one but himself.  
The woman gave no response, instead holding out her hand which contained only a brilliant multifaceted crystal. The colors shook Nishaven to his soul as he became lost in the edges and look of the object. Images fluttered into his mind violently, leaving no room to be ignored. The Atlalas Mountains, more crystals just like the one Uma now held, the temple of Vesmana, cities left smoldering in the wake of Keldor's armies, a great and terrible war, new heroes of unspeakable power, and Nishaven... only different. He couldn't place it, but when his mind was his own to control once more he could tell the final image of the man was himself but something was radically different. There was no love left in that man's eyes.  
Nishaven turned to the priestess for answers, but she was already gone. There was no need to question her anyway, he already knew what he needed to do. Sleep was irrelevant and impossible to him now, so he spent the remainder of the moon's light gathering items needed for a long trip. When Elana at last woke in the morning, the farmer was already prepared for the road ahead. He kissed her gently, smiled his best "everything will be alright" smile, and left for the door.  
He didn't get to see it, but Elana did not stop crying for three days.

The Atlalas Mountains were two days away by horse, but Nishaven knew the land well enough to cut through a notoriously dangerous forest on foot to save time. He was healthy enough to push forward at a radical pace, and driven enough to not stop for rest. By the time the sun was halfway through the sky the next day he was breathing heavily while looking down into the caves his vision had shown him would possess what he sought.  
Once inside, though, he saw nothing that could be of use. The stones of the cave were bland and useless; none of them possessed the same echo of power as what he had seen the previous night, none of them would even be useful as a decorative item. His fist slammed into the wall of the cave as his anger came to a roiling boil. His daughter was already sick. His wife and son had no doubt been exposed, as had his father. Time was of the essence and he would not waste it searching the depths of a cave for the answers. He needed the crystals, and he needed them now.

The walls of the cave exploded into a brilliant array of colors and life. There were a half dozen of them just where he could see; there was no doubt more could be found. Rushing forward he began to free them from their earthy prisons. He smashed the walls away with rocks found on the floor, a process that was tedious and left his hands ripped to shreds. Hours passed but not without fruit for his labors. When Nishaven left the cave he had gathered seven crystals into his bag, which weighed it down heavily.

He ignored the weight and began his trek to the temple of Vesmana. Every fiber of his being screamed to go home, to use these to heal his family, but Nishaven had never even seen magic used. Deep inside he knew his family needed him, but he needed to be able to use the power if he was to save them. He ignored the pleas of his soul and went to the only place he knew that would be able to use this new found power to heal his loved ones.

The trip was difficult, both because of the two day's walking and the fact he had not slept once since his family's unfortunate visitors. His hands stung with the early signs of infection, his body ached with hunger, and his eyes burned with fatigue yet he never slowed on his journey. His shape was so horrible when he at last made it to the temple that he was almost guided to the shelter for the homeless before he was able to plead his case to a passing priestess.

Why Zhanna had believed a word of his incoherent ramblings Nishaven had no clue, but once the word "crystals" escaped his parched lips she couldn't get him into the temple quick enough. If he tried to speak on the way to his room he was instantly silenced, and something told him the woman was much like his own Elana in her lack of tolerance for mischief. Once he stepped inside the door she'd opened for him it was instantly closed and latched again.

Before he'd had time to question anything, the farm raised man found himself surrounded by attendants. Some lathered and scrubbed his clothing, others bandaged his hands. One even brought him a tray of steaming food, which she fed Nishaven while the others worked. Still he was unable to speak to the battery of helpful hands, and before he was given a chance the room was empty once more. He was beginning to believe this was all some sick joke when someone again opened the door.

In stepped a man who had certainly walked the earth his fair share of years. Stooped with age, a beard so white that it shamed driven snow, and eyes that had seen things beyond imagining, it was obvious to Nishaven that this man was not one to underestimate; even if he did rely on his ornate staff just to stand. Quietly the man sat down on the bed that the exhausted traveler had yet to touch.

"Tell me, young man," the sage said with stern conviction, "did the fledgling priestess rouse me from my nightly prayers for nothing? Or, do you truly have something to show me?"

He knew better than to trust his voice or reasoning at this point. Instead he gripped his leather backpack firmly by the corner, lifted it, and turned it up to spill the contents onto the bed. The crystals, each glowing faintly with their own light, spilled onto the bed before Nishaven threw the bag carelessly onto the desk with a loud thud.

Of all the events that he'd endured over the past week, the one that unsettled him the most was the look the upon the old man's face as he gazed down upon the crystals. It wasn't the look of a man who was curious about what he was seeing, nor was it shock at the site. The look the man so sternly fixed upon the bounty of crystals was one of relief. He even smiled as he picked one up and held it towards the sky.

"Oh yes," he whispered, almost lost to his own little world. "My dear boy, you certainly have something I needed to see. Follow me."

Despite his age, the priest was able to slide from the bed and bolt down the corridor with surprising speed. Nishaven was shocked that a man who relied on a staff simply to walk could practically run with it just as well. Pushing his wearied body, promising it he would only need to go just a little further, the farmer from Uhr followed.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to catch up, and the moment he did the direction changed. Continuing to follow as closely as he could, Nishaven found himself inside a large hallway. Every inch of the walls on either side had been packed to bursting with beds and souls in need of them. There was no confusing it, this was the result of the plague.

Even as he found himself dumbstruck by the devastation, Nishaven felt the crystal being thrust into his palm. The sage gave him no instructions beyond a wry smile and none were needed. He had come here to learn how to use the crystals and this would be his first lesson.

He remembered something he'd read years ago, that magic came from focusing one's thoughts and will to an objective then forcing them into a reality. It had seemed utter gibberish at the time, but at the time he hadn't been holding a crystal found by visions forced upon him from the avatar of the gods either. At the time Elana, Murah, and Mirka were not dieing of a pestilence sent by the legions of Seroth.

With his motivation clearly in mind, Nishaven held out the crystal and summoned up all of his might. Images of his family poured through his thoughts and his exhausted mind could do nothing to keep them focused. For a brief moment the crystal began to glow, but then fear once again overtook his mind and the crystal turned as dull as before. He suppressed the urge to scream in frustration and tried again; the effect was no different. Finally, after several more tries with lessening effects he offered the crystal back into the elder's waiting palm. The man simply smiled as he took the crystal.s

"On behalf of our gods," the man shouted in a powerful and commanding tone, "I cast out the pestilence of Seroth and his minions. By the love of Vesmana will you be healed, and the power of Teroth will you be protected. So commands Wiznet, Sage of Egaras!"

The stone came to life, a shimmering melody of colors moving just beneath its surface. A violent but brief wind kicked up, seemingly from everywhere at once. The blankets of every one of the plague victim's sheets rustled before settling back as they were to begin with and there was a clinging silence that hung in the air for what seemed like eternity. Nishaven was beginning to think the crystals couldn't do what he needed when he realized the coughing had stopped.

Patients began to rise from the beds, their malady removed and health restored seemingly to full. He couldn't hide the surprise on his face, nor did he bother trying. The old man, on the other hand, stood there looking infinitely smug. He looked Nishaven over once and smiled again. The younger man didn't hear the words his elder spoke but the crystal's life returned, more subtle this time. He had never slept so well in his life.

When Nishaven woke in the morning confusion did not begin to cover the feelings swirling inside of him. How had he fallen asleep? What had happened to the wounds on his hands? Who had changed his clothes into these nicer garments? For that matter, why had they done it?

Someone obviously considered his questions invalid since they now pounded on his door. Rising from the bed, he was shocked at just how rested he felt. His energy was almost overflowing, it was as if the past week hadn't happened at all! When he ripped the door open he was shocked to see the priestess from the previous night standing there; not because it was unusual to see a priestess in a temple but because when she looked at him her eyes held so much sadness and pity.

She interrupted his thoughts before he had time to put forth any questions.

"You have been summoned to the main hall," she said quietly. "The sage is waiting for you, so please hurry."

She simply pointed down the hall before passing him and starting to clean his chambers. He still wanted to know why she looked at him the way she did, but some part of him knew there'd be no answers to any questions. He wasn't sure he wanted them anyway, and so he went in the direction she'd pointed. At first Nishaven had believed he would need to stop and ask someone where to go, but it didn't take long for him to be swallowed in the throngs of people crowding into the main hall.

The room was decorated with statues cast in stone and precious metals, bearing resemblances to the gods and their avatars. In the center of the room stood the old sage, who seemed to notice Nishaven immediately and motioned him forward. Heading obediently to the center of the room, he was shocked to see everyone starting at him so intently. The old man was not alone there though, another man stood before him.

This new man was slightly older than Nishaven, but not by much, and was surrounded by opulence. Not just his silk clothing, encrusted gems, jewelry, or crown. No, even if this man were to be standing in nothing but rags he would still be recognizable by the entourage that stood around him.

A dozen armed guards surrounded him, bearing armor that would stir the hearts of anyone loyal to his realm and ready to strike without hesitation if it was ever needed, in addition to the middle aged man with glasses who stood just to his left and the hooded woman who's very flesh seemed so pale one could have mistaken it for snow. At least this explained why his clothes had been changed; one did not stand before the King of Egaras in complete squalor. Nishaven caught himself gulping with embarrassment. If the King noticed, he made no outward signs of it. He simply smiled and nodded to his subject with no hint of pomp.

"I assign our wisest Sage, old Wiznet here, to find a source of these crystals within our lands," he said, his smile carrying clearly into his voice, "and yet the gods choose you to do the task for him. I suppose we should take their lesson to heart, and remember that no matter the title we are all just people in the end. So tell me, Nishaven was it, do you know the fullness of what you have found?"

He was struck too dumb to speak, but the King didn't seem to mind. Instead he held out the crystal and focused his gaze. There were no words of command, or great speeches given yet there was no denying the King's will spoke to the mythical stone. It flared to life, an ever intensifying glow emanating around it. Slowly the glow pulsed outwards, creating an oval that hung in the air between each pulse. Within moments the glow ceased growing larger and instead simply grew brighter until the moment Nishaven could swear he saw the shape of a man inside the its outline.

Instantly the light subsided and there did indeed stand a man in its place. His clothes were tattered and ripped to shreds and his face bore the scares of fierce battle. He made no motion to attack but his demeanor screamed warrior all too plainly. The guards instantly made to protect their leader but he stopped them with a motion of his hand as he stepped towards the man brought from some place Nishaven had probably never even imagined.

"I am Alandros, King of Egaras, leader of her people, and foe of the dark god Seroth," announced the king sternly. "In our search for a defense from his legions, I have learned of your kind and Teroth has guided you to our aid. I have also learned that you bear the title of Stormcaller, but now I wish to learn one last thing. Will you and your ilk come to the aid of our people? Will you fight Keldor and his minions back along side us?"

"I am Aeon," the disfigured warrior said with a small smirk. "warrior of Teroth and adversary to Seroth and any foolish enough to serve him. As of this moment I am also the protector of the people of Egaras, as are my comrades in arms. As was promised in ages long past, we will be at your side during this Shadow Era."

Nishaven was dumbfounded. He'd found the crystals to heal his family, not to start a war. He watched as the king handed the six crystals to the bespectacled man at his side, then realized he had to do something. He would NOT let Elana die. Pressing past Wiznet, and then Aeon, he didn't even flinch when the guards rushed to block him. Seeing he couldn't physically take the crystals back he chose to shout to the king, praying his pleas would reach him.

"Wait! You can't take those," he exclaimed.

"Oh?" replied the King, as he turned to face Nishaven, his face truly puzzled. "The priestess you spoke with last night explained your story to Wiznet, who related it to me before you awoke. Did you not find them as a result of the visions from our gods? Didn't those same visions tell you to bring them here, to this temple? You arrived the night before I came to check on the progress of finding them; it would seem I have no choice but to take them."

"Your people are dieing of this plague," retorted Nishaven angrily, "and you would deny them the cure?!"

"No," the king sighed as he stepped forward and rested his hand on Nishaven's shoulder. "I have children who are sick, and children who are being slaughtered in cold blood. The death from the sickness is terrible and I will send Jericho, my personal adviser and friend, to the largest cities to beat back the pestilence as best we can. You must also realize, though, that this is only Keldor's first assault.

"He will continue unless we can defend ourselves. Aeon is the first of his kind to join us, and we will need them to thwart these invasions. For that reason I will send these crystals to fighters capable of doing just that. I know of your family, and once we are able I will PERSONALLY come to their aid. But as a king the needs of the many are what I must consider.

"Now, go to them. I've asked the priests to prepare your things and ready their fastest horse. You should be back in the arms of your wife within two days time."

Devastated, Nishaven could do little but watch as the King and his entourage made their way from the hall. He looked to Aeon, only to find the warrior faded from existence once the crystal that brought him was removed from his presence. The room quickly emptied of onlookers after the king had gone. Even the sage had no words for him, and turned to leave the room without so much as a wave.

His body trembling with rage, he at last made his way from the hall. He had no way of gaining his bearings, but something inside was able to lead him through the temple and outdoors to the stable. He wasn't sure how long it took him, but when he arrived Zhanna was standing there with infinite patience and that same damned look of pity. He said no words of thanks as he snatched the reins from her and mounted the horse. Just as he was about to set out, she grabbed the saddle and forced him to stop for a moment.

"You're not the only one who has dreams you know," she said as his backpack was thrust into his hands.

He had the sudden urge to thrust the empty bag back into her face, but something was off. It weighed more than it should, and it was too firm in one corner. Opening it slowly he saw a single crystal was stuck in a pouch deep inside the main bag. It was the very crystal Uma had shown him that night, he knew it. Somehow he must have held onto it by accident when emptying the bag for Wiznet the night before. He'd been so stupid to question the gods.

His manners were long forgotten as he pushed the horse into a full gallop without so much as a word to the priestess. He had what he needed. He had a shadow crystal, the knowledge that his will alone could power them, and a horse that could return him to his family. There was no delaying him as he pushed the poor beast to its maximum and beyond. It was long past the midnight hour when the horse fell dead from exhaustion, but even that did little to slow the man down. By lunch the next day he was on his farm once more.

His heart swelled as he ran to the door of his house, and immediately it sank once he found the door to be gone. Most of the contents of the house were also gone, but the blood upon the walls stole his complete attention. Something horrible had happened, and he'd not been here to protect the people who needed him. Desperately he searched for his family. Arakat lay in the doorway of the room where his children had slept, the majority of his midsection gone and his face contorted in pain. Slowly Nishaven opened the door to the horrors that awaited inside.

Immediately the sounds of crunching and slurping horrified him, but he had to know. On the floor between the crib of their daughter and the bed of their son lay Elana. Her arms still clutching their children, her dieing breath no doubt screaming his name for help. The beast that sat atop her corpse looked to Nishaven, annoyed that its meal had been so rudely disturbed.

The thing looked to be the bastard offspring of some dog and a man; a creature he'd heard of only in story books. It was a servant of Seroth, and loyal ally of Keldor. Before him sat a Wulven; a monstrosity that deserved nothing but death. The crystal responded in his hand, its power swelling into him and joining his own conscious mind. It fueled his rage, and his rage fueled it. He begged the crystal for more power and it replied without hesitation.

When Nishaven raised his hand, the warmth from the fire surrounding it a welcome companion against this creature, the energy released. The only kindness he afforded the abomination was a quick death. The flames roared out into a sphere, smashing the beast in its chest, knocking it away from his fallen loved ones and through the nearest wall. The heat incinerated it within moments, its howls of pain music to his ears.

His rage was insatiable. The wulven had not attacked without orders; this was the invasion Alandros had spoken of. Nishaven was sure the rest of his village would be no better than his home, and that meant there were more demons from the underworld that he could inflict his hatred upon.

Keldor had wanted a war. Nishaven was going to oblige him.


End file.
